


Tea and Company

by Wxlves



Series: Wxlves' Ridiculous Modern AU Codywan Oneshots [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cody loses all his brain cells as soon as he sees one (1) hot guy, Cody's a landscaper, First Meetings, M/M, Meet-Cute, Modern Era, Obi Wan's tea obsession
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:48:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27669773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wxlves/pseuds/Wxlves
Summary: Cody had just enough time to wonder if his awkward silence had merely scared the man off when he returned, two steaming mugs clutched in his hands, a rather chunky sweater pulled on over the sweatshirt he’d been wearing.“Something warm while you wait,” the stranger said, smiling. Cody finally picked out the man’s elegant accent — Stewjoni.“Thank you…” Cody paused.“Obi Wan.”[Cody's truck won't start, and a rather handsome stranger offers him tea and company while he waits for help]
Relationships: CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, CT-7567 | Rex/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Wxlves' Ridiculous Modern AU Codywan Oneshots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2102322
Comments: 20
Kudos: 305





	Tea and Company

**Author's Note:**

> I've just started the good things happen bingo and this was the first prompt, tea break. I'll be alternating between that and the bad things happen bingo, primarily within the prequels/CW era.
> 
> This was suPPOSED to be a 1k drabble...

Winter’s chill had finally settled into the air, and by the time Cody had his truck packed up, his breath was clouding in front of his face with every exhale.

Throwing the final bag of lawn detritus into the bed of the pickup he slid into the driver’s seat, looking forward to the desert-dry heat from the old Ford’s vents. It only ever worked when it was on maximum power and the air that came out of the dusty vents was practically volcanic, but right now that was precisely what Cody needed. He put the key in the ignition, jiggling it a few times before turning it. Starting this truck was an art form he’d long since perfected.

The engine made a sound like a dying bantha and refused to turn over.

He tried again, getting only another brain rattling noise that was, impossibly, even louder.

Cody took it back — Starting this truck was an art form too complex for anyone to perfect. Especially in sub-freezing weather.

Dialing Waxer’s number, all he got out was a “hey,” before Waxer sighed, a resigned sound, and asked, “The truck again?” Cody made a noise of affirmation, not bothering with actual words. “Why didn’t you take Gearshift’s truck?”

“Because Gearshift has a job too?”

“The di’kut took today off, but I  _ told _ him to tell you that you could borrow it. I’ll be there soon with jumper cables.”

Thanking his brother, Cody hung up. He was just deciding whether he should sit in his parked truck like a creeper or loiter outside the truck in a slightly-less-creepy way when a sharp knock sounded on the other window. Startled, Cody’s head hit the ceiling.

The man standing outside the passenger window looked a little bit sheepish, though also like he was trying to stifle a laugh. “Sorry to scare you,” he said, muffled, his breath fogging the glass, “But I heard your truck starting and was wondering if you needed help.”

Rather than talk to this man through a window Cody stepped out of the truck and around, leaning one hip on the hood. “I’d say you heard the truck  _ not  _ starting,” he laughed, “But I guess that’s a matter of semantics.” As soon as his gaze settled on the man, properly seeing him for the first time, Cody regretted his words. He did  _ not  _ just say the words “matter of semantics” to a man this hot.

Fortunately for Cody’s pride, the man laughed. “I suppose you’re right.”

Wow, his eyes were  _ really  _ blue. And the smattering of freckles across his nose… Remembering he’d been asked a question, Cody added, “My brother’s on his way with some jumper cables, I should be alright.”

If Gregor were here right now he’d be laughing his ass off, and Cody wasn’t sure he’d blame him. Cody had been single for too long if he was noticing the way the late-afternoon sun caught on the man’s hair, turning it copper, reminding him of… 

“Sir?”

Cody had been asked another question. 

“I’m sorry?”

“I know it’s very forward of me, and you have no real reason to trust I’m not a murderer, but I just supposed you might want to get out of the cold.” Indeed, the stranger wasn’t dressed for the weather the way Cody was, his arms crossed tight over his chest to ward off the chill. Cody suddenly felt like a prick, making the guy stand out here in the cold while he ogled him and failed to hear his questions.

Caught off guard and unsure of what, exactly, he’d been asked, Cody was saved by the man waving his hand dismissively. “You know what? I hate to make you uncomfortable. I’ll be right back.” He disappeared into the house Cody was parked in front of.

Staring after him, bewildered, Cody realized he must have asked if he wanted to come inside. He certainly didn’t  _ look  _ like a murderer—

— said every hapless victim of a murderer. Nevermind that Cody, a six-foot ex-martial artist with a facial scar and the muscles of someone who did hard labor, didn’t fit the bill of the typical serial-killer target. He had just enough time to wonder if his awkward silence had merely scared the man off when he returned, two steaming mugs clutched in his hands, a rather chunky sweater pulled on over the sweatshirt he’d been wearing.

“Something warm while you wait,” the stranger said, smiling. Cody finally picked out the man’s elegant accent — Stewjoni.

“Thank you…” Cody paused.

“Obi Wan.”

An interesting name, though Cody was hardly in a position to judge; he was the only Fett brother to go by anything near his given name. Even  _ Gregor _ wasn’t Gregor’s actual name, nevermind Gearshift or Boil or Helix.

“Cody,” he offered, blowing on the drink he’d been handed, not eager to scald his tongue. Green tea, by the looks of it.

Watching from the corner of his eye, the stranger — Obi Wan — chuckled. “I meant what I said, Cody. I promise it’s not poisoned.” He liked the way his name sounded with that accent, polished and —  _ Oh get a grip, Kote. _ Gregor’s rumbling voice was practically right in Cody’s ear.

“Well,” Cody whispered conspiratorially in an attempt to make up for his earlier lack of conversation, “You should know I have a big family. It would be your mistake to invoke the wrath of the entire Fett clan.”

“Good thing only a few neighborhood landscapers have disappeared this week.”

It was taking an embarrassing amount of effort to keep the dopey smile off his face.“And you had nothing to do with it.”

“And I had nothing to do with it.” Obi Wan winked. “Fett clan, hm? Lots of siblings, then?”

“‘Lots’ doesn’t even begin to cover it. You?”

Before Obi Wan could answer, a car came screeching to a halt behind Cody’s truck, nearly rear-ending it. “Let’s get this done,” Waxer called out as he leapt from the car, making a beeline for the truck’s hood, “Daddy’s got a date tonight and he can’t be late.”

Cody quite literally felt the blood  _ drain _ from his face. He considered pouring his tea down Waxer’s front just for the embarrassment, but his brother had been kind enough to come with the jumper cables and Obi Wan, standing close behind Cody, had his lips pressed into a thin line in a poor attempt at hiding a smile.

Getting back in the truck, Cody wrestled with the ignition once again, Waxer still under the hood, until the engine roared to life. Letting it idle, he returned to Obi Wan’s side, sending his brother off with a wave as he sped away, presumably to his date. Turning back to the shorter man, Cody smiled. “Thank you for the tea… and the company. This might have been a cold, lonely wait without it.”

The answering grin was almost blinding. “A pleasure, of course.”

His brothers could poke fun all they wanted, but Cody was never a man who passed up a chance to shoot his shot. “If you ever need some landscaping done…” He trailed off with a vague hand gesture in the direction of Obi Wan’s house, raising one brow.

“I’ll be sure to contact…” Obi Wan trailed off, peering around Cody to see the lettering on his truck’s side. “…Fett Brothers Landscaping. Perhaps I could ask Mr. Binks for your contact information.” There was an almost prompting tone in his voice.

Cody wasn’t stupid; he knew his next move. Digging into his pockets, he unearthed a business card and tried his best to ignore the dirt under his nails… come to think of it, he likely had dirt everywhere. With a small flourish, he held out the card. “This might be easier than going through Jar Jar Binks.”

Though a loyal customer and perfectly decent man, he certainly had a few, er, loose screws.

“Indeed, it might.” It was hard to tell under the beard, but Obi Wan looked like he might be blushing.

Well, that made two of them.

Cody was back in the truck and halfway home before he realized he still had Obi Wan’s mug, half-drunk tea now cold where it sat on the middle console. He finished it anyways: no sense in wasting a perfectly good cup of tea.

————————

“Stop smiling.”

Cody promptly wiped the smile from his face. “I’m not.”

_ "Now  _ you’re not. What’s got you so happy?”

“Why are you even here right now? This house is too small for all of us, even without your lanky self taking up space.”

Skywalker had the gall to look offended at that, placing his metal hand over his heart in mock offense. “Lanky? It’s not my fault you Fetts are all built like wookies.”

_ Wookies? _ How Rex even put up with Skywalker, Cody would never know. How Skywalker put up with Rex was also a mystery, in all fairness.

“And your ‘wookie’ boyfriend isn’t even  _ here  _ right now. Might I remind you he doesn’t actually live in this house anyways?”

“He said he was going to stop by to help Helix with something so I’m waiting for him. Back to my original question…”

Incorrigible idiot.

“Not that’s any of your business, but I’ve got a date.”

Skywalker’s gaze sharpened and he leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees. “With who?”

" _ That  _ is definitely not your business.” More like Cody didn’t need Skywalker and Rex running a full background check on the man. Knowing them, they could find his kriffing social security number if they set themselves to it. A familiar scowl settled onto Skywalker’s face, that dangerous slant to his brows that usually spelled trouble, but Cody was as stubborn as Skywalker was wild, and he only returned the glare with a steady gaze.

The front screen door slammed loudly, interrupting their staring contest as Rex called into the kitchen, “Ani, you ready to go soon?”

“Ani,” Cody parroted at him, laughing at the nickname.

Skywalker’s frown softened into something a little more good natured, even as he shot back at Cody, “Commander.”

_That_ _nickname..._

He was halfway out the door before Cody’s balled-up napkin missile found the back of his head. “Go kriff yourself.”

He didn’t turn, only said over his shoulder, “Why? I’ve got Rex for that.”

“That’s my little cousin, Skywalker!” Cody’s bellow of outrage was lost under Anakin’s laughter.

————————

“So, I didn’t end up getting to hear much about your ‘clan’,” Obi Wan said, leaning back in his chair, “Although my first impression of your brother was rather interesting.” The cafe table between them was littered with drawn-on napkins where Obi Wan had tried to illustrate his rather convoluted extended family. Windu, Yoda, Qui Gon, Stewjonis, Coruscantians… It almost made the Fett family tree look normal.  _ Almost. _

“In my immediate family there’s six of us. Me, triplets, and twins. Waxer and Boil are the twins. They’re twenty-four years old, just a bit younger than me, but they act closer to fourteen.”

“Waxer is the one I met,” Obi Wan interrupted. Cody grimaced.

“Unfortunately, yes. Gregor, Gearshift, and Helix are triplets, they’re twenty. On our father’s side of the family we have an inordinate amount of cousins, but are only close with a few of them.”

“Would I be rude to assume these are all nicknames?” Obi Wan sounded amused, which was more than could be said for other first dates. Cody’s family often scared people away: precisely why he’d begun telling potential boyfriends as soon as possible.

“I’m the only one who uses my own name on a daily basis, but even that’s a more anglicized version.” At Obi Wan’s encouraging nod, he dropped his voice into the thick Mando’a accent that still came so naturally. “K-O-T-E.  _ Kote." _

" _ Kote," _ Obi Wan repeated, his Mandalorian accent sounding almost native.“I like it.”

Cody blinked in surprise. He liked it too. He liked the way his name sounded with that faint hint of Stewjon under the guttural Mandalore. He liked the amusement that curled the corners of Obi Wan’s mouth, inviting.

Tempting.

Realizing he was staring, he tore his gaze away. If Obi Wan noticed the lapse, he was polite enough not to mention it, instead asking, “And your cousins?”

“There’s a whole crew that everyone just calls “The Bad Batch,” which should tell you everything you need to know about them. They’re good guys,” he added quickly, not wanting to sound dismissive of his family, “But they can be a little rough around the edges. Other than that it’s just Rex and his brothers; Fives, Echo—” Cody cut himself off at the look on Obi Wan’s face. “What is it?”

Obi Wan was studying him intently, eyes wide. “That’s why you looked so familiar.”

“Pardon?”

The Stewjoni shook his head. “I should have realized earlier.”

Cody must have looked worried because Obi Wan reached across the table to rest a hand atop his, pale skin against brown. “Nothing’s wrong, Cody, I’m afraid I just failed to put two and two together. The name Fett should’ve tipped me off, but I happen to know your cousin.”

Cody’s interest sharpened. “Which one? Don’t tell me the first impression you’ve gotten of my family was Fives…” He was joking, for the most part, but Fives inherited that same brainless recklessness that all of Rex’s (and some of Cody’s) brothers had, that worrying blend of competence and arrogance.

“Actually, it was Rex. He happens to be dating a good friend of mine.”

“You know  _ Skywalker?" _

————————

“He’s a professor at the Citadel, too.”

“And he speaks Mando’a and he’s Stewjoni and he has a pet tooka and he’s got a big, weird family just like us and he loves tea and his eyes are  _ so  _ blue,” Boil cut in. Waxer elbowed him, but he was rolling his eyes too.

“Seriously,  _ Kote, _ you’re like a middle schooler with their first crush.”

“Even Rex wasn’t this bad,” Boil added on, finishing his twin’s thought in that creepy way they had.

Cody knew for a fact that this was false.  _ Nothing  _ could have been worse than Rex, and as the oldest Fett he’d received the brunt of the drama.

First it was, “I think I might be gay,” then, “I am, and it’s Anakin I’m gay for,” followed by, “Anakin’s straight and dating Padme and I’ll be alone forever.” Anakin and Padme’s eventual breakup and Padme’s subsequent relationship with Sabe brought a new wave of hope to the poor, lovelorn Rex, once again turning to Cody. As much as he loved being there for his cousins and brothers…  _ exhausting _ was a mild way of putting it.

So this was just Cody’s revenge.

The second date with Obi Wan went well, then the third and fourth and fifth.

It was on the fifth date, just a movie at Obi Wan’s place, that Cody let himself get roped into a round of question-for-question. The oldest trick in the book.

It started, of course, innocent enough, but Cody was barely surprised when Obi Wan peered at him over the rim of his glass and asked, “Top or bottom?”

Still, Cody tapped his chin thoughtfully and answered, “Bottom. The top bunk is always too close to the ceiling.”

Those cobalt eyes narrowed at his teasing, a smile flitting across Obi Wan’s face. “You’re terrible, you know that?”

“I’ve been called worse.”

Cody couldn’t say what happened for the rest of that movie if his life depended on it. He did, however, spend the time memorizing every little scar and freckle scattered across Obi Wan’s skin.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Me, in the middle of raking leaves: wow I'm kind of tired of seeing the clones as police/ex-military in modern AUs  
> My brain: okay so what if-
> 
> [EDIT: Thank you all for the wonderful comments! I appreciate them, I really do... all you're doing is encouraging my bad habit of writing every little stupid fic idea that comes through my head, but as long as we all have fun...]


End file.
